“Then your most sacred Event Log is not to be trusted?” asked the monk in
astonishment.

“Null,” answered Djishin calmly, as master Kaimu had taught him.
“You may trust the annals to be faithful to the spirit of the events
which occurred, rather than the specifics of those events.”

The monk spat on the ground at Djishin’s feet. “Your words have all the
convoluted logic of one who still codes in procedures. How could you come
here hoping to grasp the fundamentals of provably correct
algorithms, when you cannot even distinguish true from false?”

Quick as an eyeblink, Djishin broke a branch from a tree and struck the
white-robed monk across the stomach. Djishin continued to pummel the
speechless monk, yelling as each blow fell:

"In Perl, underline is understood!
In Perl, underline is understood!"

Terrified, the monk ran from Djishin, nearly knocking over an old nun
as he sped up the tower steps and vanished through its doors.

“What purpose has this violence?” demanded the nun of Djishin.

“I wished for your monk to learn the Perl $_ mnemonic, and to never
forget it,” said Djishin.

“But we do not use Perl here,” said the nun.

“That is why I chose it,” said Djishin. “From now on, whenever he tells the
story of the mad visitor who answered his question with the limb of a tree,
he will quote the strange words I shouted. And when he understands why
he still knows them, he will grasp the algorithm of the scribe of the
Morning Brass Gong.”